Dreams
by loose-cannon-with-a-gun
Summary: Forget about Grissom! It's Jim Brass who shows up in Sara Sidle's dreams. And to make it clear: I mean naughty dreams. SaraBrass


_Disclaimer: Of course I don't own CSI – I just love it._

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A/N: This is my first fanfic written in English … Lisa, thank you so much for beta reading!  
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**Dreams**

_Jim grabbed her hips and drew her closer. They deepened the kiss, and when their tongues met and one of his hands slipped under her shirt, up to her breasts, Sara moaned into his ear …  
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Soaked with sweat Sara woke up and groaned in frustration. The third time this week she'd been dreaming the same steamy but unsatisfying dream and she felt even more confused and worse than before. She got out of her bed and faltered into the bathroom to take a long, hot shower.

The water falling down her face and her still aroused body started to relax her and she wondered how and when her thoughts about Jim had turned into these naughty ones.

At first the changes had been subtle. Over the years they had become very comfortable with each other almost like very good friends. At times she had been scared of his ability to read her mind and to uncover her desperately hidden secrets. The initial moment had been when he had lectured her about her drinking problem. After he had told her that he was just looking out for her, she had started to see him in a different light. And since her ridiculous crush on Grissom had been disappearing by and by over the last year, her feelings for Jim had changed more rapidly. She had started watching out for him not only as a co-worker and friend. Then one day a few months ago she'd had the first of her erotic dreams.

Sara sighed and finished her shower. She felt ashamed about her dreams and even more embarrassed about how she wasn't able to deal with her steadily growing attraction towards Jim. Meeting him at a crime scene or in the LVPD had become a mine field of uneasiness and she was glad about the fact that the darkness of the night and the faint artificial light of the interrogation rooms were covering her truth telling blushes when he was close to or even touching her. She thought to herself, the last thing she wanted was her desire to be exposed – and to be turned down like Grissom had done before. Therefore she started to avoid Jim, which she made a kind of work of art, especially when they were working together at a scene.

Sara heard her phone ringing. Wrapped in a towel, she hurried into her bedroom.

Picked up her phone, "Sidle!"

"Sara, it's me", Grissom said, "I know, it's your night off, but can you come in? Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and Greg are out in the dessert processing a bus crash."

"Uh … okay, what's the case?"

"Double homicide in Henderson."

Sara wrote down the address. Just before she hung up a thought popped into her mind.

"Grissom? Uh, who's the detective?"

"It's Jim. Why?"

Trying to sound casual,"just curious, see ya there," then hastily hung up.

Nervously Sara stepped into her closet and eyed her collection of clothes. She had three weeks of laundry piled up which she had planned on doing that evening. The only clean clothes she had left were all way to sexy to wear at work.

'I'll look like Catherine, or like a woman on the prowl', she thought uneasily and pulled out a sleeveless, figure-hugging black top with a plunging neckline along with a pair of very tight-fitting black leather trousers.

After getting dressed she dried her hair, did her usual decent make-up and looked at herself in the mirror.

'What the hell', she suddenly smirked and reached for the dark red coloured lip stick, the black kohl and the silver-black shining eye shadow which she normally reserved for going clubbing once a month with Nick, Greg and Warrick. 'Better to look a like Lady Heather than to look a like a bad copy of Catherine.'

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When Sara arrived at the crime scene she saw Grissom and Jim standing at the open front door of the mansion, they were looking inside and discussing something. She grabbed her kit, ducked under the police tape, went down the driveway and stopped right behind them.

"Hey guys, should I investigate the garden or get inside?"

Grissom and Jim turned to her, astonishment crossing their faces. Jim looked her up and down.

"Comin' from a party?"

"Nope. So, what's up?"

"Two DB's in the living room, empty safe, probably a robbery. Let me show you …"

"I volunteer for the garden, if that's okay. Grissom?" she interrupted.

Jim frowned, but Grissom nodded.

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Sara processed the garden, collected several shoe prints next to the backdoor and some cigarette butts in front of the large living room window. Three times she luckily escaped into the dark when Jim appeared outside the house, but while inspecting the glass of the living room window for fingerprints she was too lost in thought to take notice of him until she heard his voice next to her.

"You avoiding me, lady in black?"

She slightly jerked but managed to smile at him brightly.

"Why should I?"

He stepped towards her.

"You tell me."

His sudden closeness immediately made her nervous and she took a little step backwards. Jim narrowed his eyes.

"Have you been drinking, Sara?"

She gasped and felt anger rising up inside of her.

"No, of course not, Jim!"

"It's your night off, so …"

"As I said: NO! Wanna taste?"

She was startled by her own bluntness and groaned inwardly. Jim gave her a puzzled look. Then they heard Grissom calling from inside:

"Jim, could you please come here for a moment?"

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Sara was more than happy to be back at the lab. She analyzed the collected traces and after a short time got a match on the shoe prints. They belonged to members of a well known gang who had been involved in a similar robbery case a month ago but were released due to a technicality and a good lawyer.

"Too dumb to buy new shoes", Sara said to herself and shook her head in disbelief. "Gotcha, you little jerks."

"Talking to yourself?" she heard Jims voice behind her.

"Stalking me, Captain Brass?"

"Want me to?"

She stared at him not knowing what to answer but well knowing that she was blushing. He smirked and folded his arms in front of his chest.

"Red suits you. As well as black. So, why you're dressed up like this? A date?"

"I'd call it a laundry problem", Sara smiled awkwardly.

"You should have that on a regular basis."

He looked intensively into her eyes and suddenly images from her dreams crossed Sara's mind.

Grissom's cough from the open door pulled her ungraciously back to reality.

"Any results, Sara?"

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A few hours later, the case had successfully been closed, Sara went into the break room to read the latest issues of Grissom's forensics journals. She laid down on the couch, snuggled up to the pillows around her back, and after ten minutes hardly able to concentrate on the article in front of her she drifted off to sleep.

_He pulled her closer to him and looked her intensely in the eyes. His fingers tenderly caressed her cheek, and she felt his breath striking against her skin._

"Kiss me, Jim", she whispered softly and closed her eyes.

She felt his lips pressing against hers and his tongue slipping along her lower lip, hungrily demanding access. She let him in, let him deepen the kiss, let him explore every curve of her mouth, and moaned breathless:

"Make love to me, babe."

He abruptly broke in the kiss.

_"I'd love to, honey, but can't we chose a more private place?"_

Sara's eyes flew open and she looked right into Jim's smirk. She literally jumped out of his embrace and crashed onto the floor in front of the couch. Hissing she rubbed her left elbow and tried to avoid his eyes.

"I'm so sorry Sara, I didn't want to startle you like this …"

"So, uh, but what exactly did you want?"

"Taste you, as you offered, remember?", he winked.

Sara shot him a glare and he immediately became serious.

"In the first place I came here to ask you out for dinner. Uh … would you … I mean despite my little overreacting misbehave … would you go out with me?"

She gazed up at him stunned.

"You asking me out for a date?"

He nodded, but she looked at him suspiciously.

"And you've been thinking about it because of … this?"

Astonishment flickered across his eyes. He gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and shook his head.

"Honey, I promise I've been thinking about it for a while …", he leaned in and gave her a peck on her cheek, "… a very long while."

"I'd love to", she shyly smiled, "but under one condition."

"That's?"

Her smile grew to a leer.

"Kiss me, Jim."

**The end**

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